


Like Emeralds and Glints in the Night

by pearl_o



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Post-Call of the Wild, Sharing a Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-19
Updated: 2007-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 10:43:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray's body knows what's going on before Ray's head does, but all of him figures it out pretty quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Emeralds and Glints in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the stop_drop_porn community on lj, for the prompt "masturbation in the same room."

It's dark when Ray opens his eyes, but not as dark as he's used to. Inuvik might not be much of a town, but it's still a town, with electric lights and people and some evidence of civilization. All the weeks in the tent on the adventure, just him and Fraser, there was nothing at all any way you looked. That's the kind of darkness that's real darkness, black and black and black, nothing to hold onto.

But in the hotel room, even with the lights off, it's not pitch black. The door to the bathroom's closed, but a little strip of light glows out the bottom of the door. 

He should be sleeping like a log, but something feels wrong. It takes him a minute to realize that it's too quiet -- which is stupid, but it's true. He can't hear Fraser's breaths, his faint snores, the weird hissing and mumbling he makes sometimes when he's dreaming. It's weird, that he notices it. Fraser's just got up to go use the john; it shouldn't affect his sleep.

Ray tosses a little, rearranging his position, fluffing the pillow under his head. The bed's too soft, too warm, too comfortable. Fraser's bed is on the other side of the room; it's the first time Ray's slept more than a couple inches away from him since he left Chicago. Ray can stretch in this bed spread-eagle without hitting another person: he's been dreaming of this much personal space for days. 

Ray shuts his eyes tight and tries to fall back asleep. He's counted a couple dozen sheep when he hears the sound from the bathroom; he stiffens in surprise.

It's not one of Fraser's sleeping noises. Ray knows all of those. And that's not a toilet noise, either, not that. That was Fraser, and it was ... a moan, almost.

It happens again, a little softer this time, but Ray's listening for it now. Soft sound, breathy, choked-off like Fraser's trying not to let it go, but it has to come out anyway.

Ray's body knows what's going on before Ray's head does, but all of him figures it out pretty quickly. He can't move, holding himself perfectly still, trying to shush his own breathing a little so he can hear better -- if he had Fraser's ears, he'd probably be able to tell exactly what was going on, but as it is, it's pretty faint. But his imagination is up to the job of filling in the blanks.

Fraser is in the bathroom with his hand on his dick. Fraser is beating off in there, a couple feet away, in the bathroom where they both showered and shaved off the smell, hair, all the physical bits of their trip, just a couple of hours ago.

Last night they were sleeping in the tent, with their sleeping bags zipped together. Fraser could've then, but--

There's a slightly louder noise, almost a gasp, and Ray can't help biting his lip--

And then there's silence. And then the toilet flushes, and then the sound of the tap running and then stopping, and then the bathroom door opens. The light is suddenly bright, hurting his eyes, almost like an attack, and then it's off, and Ray can hear Fraser settling back into his bed.

There's no freaking way Ray's going to sleep now. He shifts again -- his dick is hard, and he can't help, can't wait one more minute to reach down and touch himself, just like Fraser was touching himself a minute ago; the sheets rustle a little, even though he tries to keep quiet, but there's nothing he can do now but push on, pumping himself over and over, biting his lip, trying to keep his breath something like steady as he gets closer. He hasn't jacked off in a while; there's not much time or energy or privacy on the adventure, and it's like all these weeks are catching up with him now, trying to imagine he can smell Fraser's longjohns, imagine that he could lean forward and kiss the nape of his neck.

"Ray," Fraser's voice says, and it's soft, but clear, ringing through the room like a bell, and it crawls up in Ray's belly and he comes, just like that, the spunk spurting out, messing up his sheets and his pajamas.

It takes him a few seconds of gasping before he get his breath back enough manage to answer back. "Fraser?" he says, in a voice that sounds mostly like his own.

"I--" Fraser starts, and then clears his throat. "I, well, I seem to be finding somewhat of a unexpected difficulty tonight, in achieving sleep."

Ray squints over in the direction of Fraser's bed, but he can't see anything. He grunts, enough to tell Fraser to continue.

"It seems that I've become rather accustomed to our previous sleeping arrangements. I thought perhaps if you felt similarly, it might be more comfortable..."

There's a pause as Fraser trails off.

"Well, you know, it's no good to either of us if we're not getting any sleep, right?" Ray says.

"Precisely what I was thinking," Fraser agrees.

Ray climbs out of bed, pulling off his dirty pajama pants so he was just in his boxers, and crosses the room carefully in the dark. Fraser scoots over in the other bed, and Ray lies down next to him and covered them back up with the covers.

"Good night, Ray," Fraser says, his voice warm and low in Ray's ear, and his hand is a heavy solid weight against Ray's wrist, and Ray says good night right back.


End file.
